


Hope for a Turned One

by Leviosally468



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ghiralink - Freeform, He really is in love with himself, Heroes need help too, Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Love is the word, M/M, Mild Smut, Post-Skyward Sword, flamboyant ghirahim, full of rainbows, mostly implied smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23498797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviosally468/pseuds/Leviosally468
Summary: “I said, ‘I love you.’, he said, ‘I know.’” Link swigged his mead darkly, turning his eyes toward the back of the bar to stare at nothing in particular as the woman beside him dropped her mouth open in wide-eyed shock.
Relationships: Ghirahim/Link (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Hope for a Turned One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay...I was feeling a lil' down after wrapping up To Be A Hero and trying to think of an excuse to bring back a little GhiraLink fun, SO, I took an opportunity to expand upon the main canons "Epilogue". It stands pretty well on its own with a few minor references from the big story. It's mostly fluffy and cute with implied sexual themes. I hope you enjoy!

“I said, ‘I love you.’, _he_ said, ‘I know.’” Link swigged his mead darkly, turning his eyes toward the back of the bar to stare at nothing in particular as the woman beside him dropped her mouth open in wide-eyed shock.  
  
“You’re JOKING?” Zelda exclaimed, perhaps a bit louder than was warranted. The patrons of the Lumpy Pumpkin looked up toward the bar; Zelda’s cheeks colored and she ducked her head, smiling meekly. The attendees merely smiled back, realizing it was only The Goddess and The Hero. Dismissing the outburst as though it were commonplace they turned back to their business, leaving the two of them to hunch over, sniggering into their hands. Zelda and Link had both become something like celebrities in the aftermath of the conflict with Demise, but Link had not acquired Zelda’s comfort with fame. Zelda shrugged off the simpering praises and lifelong pledges of loyalty from the people of Skyloft with beauty and grace and took upon her new responsibilities with pride and elegance. Link blushed furiously, muttering awkwardly that he had only been doing his duty. Link was immensely grateful that their personal relationship hadn’t changed much. They were both consequently much busier since things had calmed down, so it had been several weeks since they had been able to set aside time to spend together, just the two of them. Even though the topic at hand was quite a bit heavier than their usual conversation, Link was more than a little relieved that he still had a best friend in Zelda. She drank deeply from her own bottle and sighed with satisfaction. Pumm had been working on producing Ancient Flower mead for several months now, and it really was everything he boasted it would be.  
  
“I haven’t even told you the worst part” Link said sullenly, spinning his empty bottle on the bar top and hailing Pumm for another. “When I asked him why he couldn’t just come out and say it, he told me he didn’t know why.” He stared at the slowly revolving bottle as though it might reveal the answer to his question at any moment. Zelda tilted her head thoughtfully for several seconds before answering;  
  
“Well, we’ve always known Ghirahim is more of a ‘show you’ than a ‘tell you’ type….at least, when it comes to emotions…I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Link…the look that says he’s about this close to tattooing your name on his ass.” She held her fingers up in front of her face, a mere half a centimeter separating her thumb from her forefinger. Link looked up at her with an un-amused expression. He heaved an exasperated sigh.  
  
“I know I shouldn’t let it bother me…we had a huge fight about it last night. Maybe I’m being too sentimental…he is good at showing he cares…” Link trailed off as Zeldas fingers flicked from demonstrating miniscule measurements to obscene gestures before his eyes. He slugged her in the shoulder as they both dissolved into laughter. It was good to laugh with her again.  
  
“Look Link,” She began, taking another swallow of mead, “It’s obviously bothering you, which means it _must_ be bothering him. You just need to talk about it once you’ve cooled off a bit. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”  
  
She was probably right, he conceded. Even though he couldn’t think of an explanation as to why Ghirahim wouldn’t tell him he loved him back, didn’t mean there wasn’t one. It didn’t stop him from obsessing over it.  
Ever since the first time it had slipped out, after they had made their prayers to the Triforce for The Demons freedom six months ago, he couldn’t help wondering. Wondering if this was Ghirahim's way of subconsciously letting him know that he was growing tired of him at last, or that we wasn’t equipped to ever be serious with him. Things had continued along well enough between them; they had made a permanent move to the surface three months ago, before the snows. They had finally gotten around to fixing up Ghirahim's old outpost in Lanayru which had remained pleasantly warm throughout the winter months. The Demon was surprisingly interested in the village council’s plans to re-colonize the surface and they had been more than grateful for his vast knowledge despite the fact that he was a demon. Even Headmaster Gaepora had come around when Link and Zelda had finally broken the news to him that Ghirahim and Link were something of an item. He smiled to himself, reliving the shocked look on the headmaster’s face that had had them both afraid for a few tense moments that he might never be able to move his mouth again. Most of the inhabitants of Skyloft knew now about he and Ghirahims relationship; many of them hadn’t even appeared as shocked as Link thought they would be. Shocked that he was dating a demon perhaps, but not surprised by his preferences in the slightest. Groose’s reaction had gone from astonishment to relief faster than you could say “glitter” and he had re-doubled his efforts into finding a way to win Zelda over. Zelda’s voice drew him back out of his thoughts;  
  
“You had better go get ready, Link, it’s almost time for you to play.” He drained his bottle as Kina caught his eye and he went to grab his harp.  
  
Meanwhile…  
  
Ghirahim puffed an irritated breath as he materialized upon the gangplank that led to Batreaux’s house, grateful that through everything he had managed to retain at least a small shred of his magic powers. He didn’t relish the idea of learning to fly one of those great multi-colored cuckoos that everyone else in Skyloft was so fond of. There was certainly something more sinister plaguing The Demon’s mind as he strode haughtily down the ramp…  
  
… … …. … … ….  
  
… _“I love you.” Link said in barely a whisper, tightening his grip on Ghirahim's forearms and sinking further into his chest as they gazed out at a sunny Lanayru morning.  
A bubble of panic and guilt rose in the pit of The Demons stomach as the uncomfortable seconds grew into an uncomfortable minute. His mind went completely blank. Whereas he normally prided himself on knowing exactly what to say even before he said it, he was at an utter loss on this small 4-letter word. His lips worked furiously…say something you great git…anything at all…  
  
“I know…” He muttered rather stupidly. Links hands loosened on his forearms as a great sigh escaped him and he turned to walk back into the bedchamber. He didn’t look at him. Ghirahim felt sick with himself; he didn’t know why he couldn’t just say it…it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, or that he didn’t feel the same way…he was desperately in love with the man who had saved his fucking life for goddess’ sake. But he had had two opportunities now to reciprocate this one simple emotion and he had blown it, and he didn’t understand why his own mind betrayed him so.  
  
“So, what is it that I’m not doing right then?” Link had stopped in the middle of the chamber and was speaking with his back to Ghirahim. The Demon squeezed his eyes shut as he turned to stare at Links back. The worst part was that he deserved every bit of this impending argument, but it didn’t stop him from rising to the bait.  
  
“Oh do hold your sob story while I fetch my tiny violin…or wait, I believe you have a harp?” He sneered, the guilty bubble in his middle growing.  
  
“Fuck you.” Link spat, turning to face the other man with a look of utmost loathing on his face. “And fuck me, for actually thinking for a moment that you would be capable of taking anything seriously.” Ghirahim rolled his eyes taking a step forward,  
  
“Link please, all I’m trying to prove is that you’re being utterly ridiculous to suggest that this little hang-up has anything to do with how I really feel about you.”  
  
“Oh really? I’m just overreacting then? Please forgive me, oh powerful demon…forgive this love-sick sot of a human his desperate need for validation!” Link mocked, casting a dramatic hand over his forehead.  
  
“Now who’s being immature, you asshole—“ Ghirahim shot back, his anger mounting.  
  
“I’m not the immature one, Ghirahim…I’m not afraid of love like you. Or is it because demons can’t possibly love anyone but themselves?!” Link shouted, practically seeing red. He was breathing hard and his heart pounded against his ribs. The look on Ghirahim's face made Link glance uneasily toward his sword. The Demon took a few steps toward Link, breathing heavily out of his nose, a vein throbbing in his temple. His footsteps were as loud as cannon blasts in the thick silence between them. He stopped two feet from Link and said through gritted teeth  
  
“You have much to learn yet, boy, about what I have been through. You think you know something of what it’s like to be cursed….” He broke off, turning away from Link and strode to his writing desk, bracing his blackened hands upon it. Link hung his head, realizing that he had officially pushed things too far. With a snap of his fingers, Ghirahim disappeared…_  
  
… … …. … … …. … … ….  
  
After walking alone for most of the afternoon, Ghirahim had found himself initially in the courtyard of The Temple of Hylia, where there was now a swarm of activity in the area now that the snows were gone; it was one of the sites that was under construction to be re-settled. He had initially intended to turn down a secluded forest path to continue his brooding, but Groose had seen him and waved. He didn’t know what it was about the ridiculous over-confident ape that now defined him as something of a friend, (it certainly wasn’t his hair), but Groose had, for some reason, made it his personal crusade to help Ghirahim feel welcome among the other inhabitants of Skyloft. Ghirahim had made it his personal crusade to rid Groose once and for all of his lackluster skills at coiffure-ing. It was Groose’s idea that he should talk with Batreux, and so here he stood. He knocked softly on the door.  
  
“Come in!” Batreaux’s voice called from within. Cocking an eyebrow at the door, Ghirahim turned the knob and allowed it to swing inward. The reason Bats had not opened the door personally made itself immediately clear. He stood hunched over a large easel, holding a paintbrush poised over the surface. The dainty brush was comically small in Batreaux’s large fingers, and Ghirahim found himself wondering whether the canvas before him or the ex-demon himself had taken on more paint. He grinned, stepping over the threshold as Bats wiped his hands on a towel and turned to face him.  
  
“Lord Ghirahim! What an honor!” Though he was no longer a demon himself, he still gave Ghirahim all the traditional respects, and bowed his head low.  
  
“Good evening my friend.” The Demon returned with a nod of his own. “I would remind you again, you need not address me as ‘Lord’ any longer, much as I do enjoy hearing it…” He added with a wry grin toward Batreaux’s painting. “This is rather good.” Ghirahim added, leaning back to appreciate his work. It was a painting of a small girl with a bug net chasing Blessed Butterflies. Ghirahim allowed himself an inward chuckle as an image of the earliest memory of his hero doing just that back in Faron Woods flashed in his mind. He sighed, turning back to Batreaux with a resigned look.  
  
“Oh, Thank you! It’s a new hobby that I’ve come to really enjoy.” Batreaux said delightedly, with the air of a child being complimented by a favorite mentor. “You seem troubled, Master Ghirahim.” Batreaux continued, removing his apron and hanging it on a peg next to his painting station.  
  
“Your skills of deduction are indeed as fine as your painting.” Ghirahim gestured flamboyantly. Batreaux grinned, his cheeks coloring.  
  
“I shall try to help you as I can, but as I know you are aware, I am no longer capable of magic or offering sage advice…in fact I don’t think that’s a new characteristic…” Batreaux said, running his pale hand over his scalp with a furrowed brow. “But, please…make yourself comfortable. Can I bring you anything, Master Ghirahim?” Bats asked, recovering himself and bustling over to the stove. He began rummaging in the cupboard for tea bags and his kettle.  
  
“Thank you, but no my dear friend. And it is your renewed situation that has brought me here tonight. I need to ask you something…” Ghirahim sighed irritably; he couldn’t _believe_ he was about to say this…Batreaux paused in his search and turned toward The Demon… “Bats, have you ever been in L-… _ahem_ …been in Llll— _Goddess_ ….that is to say, have you ever felt like you might actually be going crazy for someone? Like you can’t imagine how you’ve lived your life so far without them? Like you would be willing to round up all the stars of the sky just to see them smile…” Ghirahim trailed off in a low whisper, his pale cheeks coloring as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. He couldn’t say it…even to Batreaux… _why_ couldn’t he say it? What was wrong with him? Batreaux was looking at him with a sad look in his eyes, but his smile was warm as he strode over to the small mosaicked table in the center of the room and sat down opposite Ghirahim.  
  
“I assume we are talking of Master Link.” He said softly. Ghirahim jerked his head in a nod. He was still getting used to the publicity of being in a relationship. The admissions still sounded strange on his lips when he spoke of them. It wasn’t shame…it was repression; long years of repression. It would take time to break the walls down completely. “Well, I cannot say that I have ever singularly loved anyone in the way that you speak of before, no. But…” He added as Ghirahim huffed a defeated sigh, “Do you see the young girl in the painting there? He gestured toward the canvas and Ghirahim raised his head. “I will love that little girl until my dying day. She was my only friend back when…” Back when he was a demon…Ghirahim finished in his mind. “She would visit me every day, sharing her laughter and stories of the life I longed for, until Master Link was finally able to make my wish come true.” Yes, Ghirahim thought with a reckless pride for his partner, always the hero.  
  
“But, I don’t understand…even as we sit here, how you are able to speak of L-…of L-! For the love of _Hylia_! You see?! I can’t even say the damned word!” Ghirahim threw his arms hopelessly in the air. To his surprise, Batreaux only laughed.  
  
“Master Ghirahim, it pains me to be the one to remind you of this, but I am no longer a demon; you still _are_ …” Great. Link already thought he didn’t care enough about him because he was a bloody Demon and now the one person who ought to understand more than any other was giving him the same lip service. He rose to leave.  
  
“Perhaps I’ve made a mistake in coming.” He grated. Batreaux’s laughter immediately died in his throat.  
  
“No! No, Master Ghirahim, you misunderstand me!” Batreaux grasped The Demon’s hand, pulling him back. “What I’m trying to tell you, is that your inability to speak the word is _because_ you are a demon!” Batreaux’s golden eyes stared imploringly into Ghirahim’s, willing him to understand something.  
  
“Much as it torments me to admit ignorance, I beg you to speak plainly…”  
  
“Demons are immortal beings, Master Ghirahim! Love cannot exist in the soul of the immortal! A rather cruel failsafe I’m afraid! What use would a being of the damned be if he were to fall subject to something as inherently human, and therefore riddled with consequence, as _love?_ ” Ghirahim could feel his mouth hanging open, but he hardly cared;  
  
OF COURSE.  
  
It made so much sense that for a moment his brain seemed to have a harder time reconciling the notion that he hadn’t thought of it himself. He slumped back into his chair, his tilted chocolate eyes fixed upon Bats’ painting.  
  
“I am sorry, Master Ghirahim…I thought you knew…Even for Turned Ones the rules still apply.”  
If nothing else, it at least granted him a bit of closure. He would need to tell Link; but how was he going to explain it to him. Immortality was the one vice he had trouble bringing even himself to terms with; the one cruel remnant of the curse that scared him the most. It had been too much to hope that this particular trait would have disappeared in his separation from the sword all those months ago. He heaved another sigh, as he ascended the ladder leading up from Batreaux’s house. He could’ve used magic, but he was too disgusted.  
  
Later…  
  
Link gazed up at the moon as he strolled down the main strip of Skyloft, past the shuttered windows of the bazaar and the cottages of the people he had grown up around. It gave him a strange sense of peace to be able to come back and visit the place that hadn’t changed one tick since he had begun his journey almost nine months ago. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the stars…  
  
… … …. … … ….  
  
_… “Ghirahim…do you know I wouldn’t have you any other way?...” He crooned as The Demon tightened his embrace, eyes fixed upon the sea of stars above The Earth Spring…_  
  
… … …. … … ….  
  
…Link closed his eyes and turned his thoughts instead on something Groose had told him earlier during sparring practice…  
  
…. … …. … … …. …  
  
… _“I dunno Link,” Groose puffed, pivoting to the side as Link swung ‘Demon’ aggressively. It seemed as fitting a name as any for the blade. Ghirahim refused to carry the sword that had once enslaved him, but said it would honor him and his past memories if Link would bear the blade. “Maybe Ghirahim is right…you should cut him a little slack. It can’t exactly be _easy_ on him, man.” Groose rolled behind Link, bringing his great battle axe slicing down toward Links back, but the other whirled around in time to counter him with the handsome dark steel blade. “Maybe…” Groose continued, throwing Link off balance and forcing him to stumble backward. He was really getting better, and a million times more fluent with an axe than he was with any sword. “Maybe he really can’t say it.” He breathed as he and Link circled one another again.  
  
“What?” Link said disbelievingly, his eyebrows raised.  
  
“No really…” Groose went on as he charged forward, feigning that he was about to swing but ducking at the last moment as Demon whooshed over his head. It was a good thing Girahim had talked him into a different hairstyle, or he’d be missing several inches. He skidded around behind Link once more, catching his outstretched sword arm and trapping it. With his other hand, he brought his axe to Link’s throat. “Maybe he actually can’t say the word. Like maybe it’s some rule about being a demon or something…” Groose chuckled, gloating in victory. Link smiled deceivingly. Suddenly he let go of Demon, sliding downward and out of Groose’s arms. As he turned on his knees, he withdrew a small dagger from within his belt and directed the point straight between Groose’s legs. His friends eyes widened in horror as he let his axe fall. “Give!” He backed away several steps, and Links smile widened. “Come on, man…you especially gotta know what a horrible shame that would be…” Groose said with a devious chuckle.  
  
“Oh shut up…” Link retorted, but the smile never left his face. He sighed, pushing himself to standing and returning his dagger to its hiding place. “Groose picked up his axe and set it back in the weapons rack. “Suppose that were true…” Link began, dusting dirt from his trousers. “How am I supposed to know?” Groose only shrugged_…  
  
… … …. … … …. … ….  
  
…Links eyes flicked open as a sound of movement met his long ears. He reached a hand toward Demon’s hilt, his head turning right and then left. He exhaled with relief as a tall, willowy figure in a 4-pointed red cape materialized before him. His silken hair rippled in the cool breeze, and the moonlight positively illuminated his pale skin. Spring was certainly in the air, but the nights remained chilly.  
  
“Would you at least grant me the small mercy of begging for my life before you hack me to pieces?” The real demon mused as he strode right up to Link, looking down into his bright blue eyes. Blushing, Link let his hand to fall from the hilt of the sword. Ghirahim cupped his cheek; “I owe you an apology…and an explanation…for starters…” He whispered, a regretful look in his dark eyes. Link shook his head;  
  
“No, I should be apologizing to _you_ …you were right…I can’t even begin to imagine how all of the changes we’ve made have been affecting you.” The Demon did not interject so he went on, “This place has always been my home. I’ve always known everyone, I’ve always had friends…I’ve always been able to fall back on the comfort of knowing that this place would always be here…” He looped his fingers in Ghirahims, who squeezed them back. “I should be more sensitive to the adjustments you’re having to make.” The Demon smiled down at him and drew him in, his lips searching. Link tilted his chin up and met him in a kiss. It was soft and more reserved, not as messy or exploitative as the ones that generally preceded sex. It was apologetic and understanding; between two beings that wanted the same things, and just needed a different way to explain it. Link reached up and stroked the other mans soft strands as he continued to monopolize his mouth. Ghirahims fingers massaged small circles into his shoulders. He broke away and licked his ear. Link smiled to himself; this once annoyingly obscene gesture now spoke volumes about The Demon’s feelings of, well, _love_ …Link hoped.  
  
“We need to talk.” He whispered into Links ear, making him shiver. “I promise to be a good boy, and not use my sardonic humor as a defense mechanism.” He said, his brown eyed smolder consuming Links thoughts. His long blackened fingers slid beneath the lapel of Links creamy linen tunic and withdrew a thin leather thong that hung around his neck. Hanging in the center was his brilliant blue, diamond shaped sapphire earring. He moved his hand slowly over Links chest and grasped his hand, not removing his eyes from his face. He guided Links hand over the gemstone and closed his fist around it. Link smiled weakly at him as Ghirahim grasped his wrists with his own, preparing to teleport them away.  
  
Later…  
  
”I’d have thought it would have been _painstakingly_ obvious considering Demise’s first rise to power happened, oh I don’t know, LIKE SIXTY YEARS AGO?! Do I look 60 to you?” Ghirahim threw his hands in the air, flabbergasted that he was having to explain such a sorely conspicuous trait like this. He was trying hard not to lose his temper again, but the boy’s lack of common sense was making it difficult. “I don’t know, I suppose I thought it would simply have disappeared with all of the rest of the abilities that Demise granted me at my forging.” He shrugged as Link continued to glower at him from the base of the shady tree that they had been all too previously snogging and giggling under.  
  
“For all I know, you could have been cast into another deep, undisturbed sleep in that loony bin of a purgatory you’re always prattling on about…” Link retorted, his scowl deepening. “You had plenty of time to tell me about this, why didn’t you speak up sooner?”  
  
“Ohforfuckssake…” The other exhaled disbelieving, turning away toward the lake and planting his fists on his hips.”It’s not like it’s something I _asked_ for…do you think it’s easy for me to…” He shot back suddenly, whipping back around and offering a hateful glare of his own. “Pssshhhhh….” He waved an impatient hand toward Link, turning his attention back to Lake Floria.  
  
“How do you even know…that you’re…”  
  
“ _IMMORTAL_?” Ghirahim spat viciously. When the boy didn’t say anything, he exhaled deeply and turned back toward the tree. Flopping back down next to Link, he plucked a flower from just behind the other, leaning close into him as he reached for it. The Demon's eyes locked onto his and he licked his chin as he withdrew the little pink bud. “Look at this flower, Link…What do you see?” The moonlight was throwing rather attractive shadows across Ghirahim’s face, despite his irritation. It made concentrating difficult.  
  
“I see the stupid, pink wreath of the silly things you made yesterday and forced me to dance around in.” Link muttered darkly.  
  
“ _Forced_? I’m truly offended Sky-child, I would never force you to do anything!” He feigned innocence, smiling finally.  
  
“Threatening me with my clothes hidden in Headmaster Gaepora’s office is as close to ‘forcing’ as literally drawing your sword.” The Demon laughed wickedly.  
  
“Very well, as you say my dear…but in all seriousness…when I look at this flower, I simply see another flower; another moment in time. I don’t spare a thought for its passing, I didn’t second guess myself even as my fingers reached for it only moments ago, severing it from its life force in a mere blink of an eye. But when I see _you_ , my little hero…when I see the way you yearn for the lost beauty of a season past, or weep at the loss of a loved one, or cringe at the sound of a fallen tree…it makes me ache inside. The thing that scares me more than anything else…” His voice dropped into a barely-audible whisper that Link strained his long ears to hear, leaning close. “…is the day that will surely come to take you away as well…to a place where I cannot follow…” He threw the expired blossom to the ground and squeezed Links hands in his permanently blackened ones, tears threatening his eyes. Link didn’t know what to say as he leaned his forehead against Ghirahims, lost in his philosophical thoughts…for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Ghirahims hands drifted up to rest on Links thighs. Taking a deep breath Link spoke;  
  
“Is this why you can’t tell me….you know…” He whispered gently.  
  
“I have it from a fairly reliable source that that is, _indeed_ , the reason…”  
  
  
"...you look good for sixty years..." Link whispered, finally opening his eyes. The demon exhaled, smiling weakly.  
  
"Fifty-six in September...close as I can figure..." He whispered.  
  
“You know I don’t really care, right?” Link took Ghirahim’s hands in his own and looked him in the face. The Demons eyes remained in his lap. “I would make the choice to live the years I have with you, every single time. No regrets.” He cupped The Demons cheek, drawing his eyes level with his. Ghirahim smiled, unshed tears glittering in his dark chocolate eyes.  
  
“I L— _L_ —you…” He stuttered awkwardly.  
  
“I know” Link smiled back, taking his lips again hungrily, turning up the heat.  
  
The Next Morning…  
  
Ghirahim rolled over, his arm searching…and his eyes fluttered open as his hand grasped at the empty linen covers next to him. He raised himself on his elbows, head swiveling, and coming to rest upon the strapping outline of the figure of The Chosen Hero, deliciously bare as the day he was born, and leaning upon the stone railing of his bedchamber balcony. Sometimes he still had a hard time believing his luck. Ghirahim rose from the bed, cocking his head with a smile at the way the dawning sun cast a perfect glow about the mans wonderfully perfect curves. The Demon glided up behind him and grasping his shoulders, nipped his neck teasingly. Link groaned appreciatively, tilting his head to the side and allowing Ghirahim to continue his exploitations of his skin.  
  
“I’ve been thinking…” He breathed sharply as The Demon sucked hard just beneath his ear.  
  
“Hm, everyone watch out…” Ghirahim murmured into his skin, “The Hero’s been thinking…” He vanished in burst of diamonds as Link aimed a shot at his head. He laughed as he snapped his fingers, summoning the bedspread and returned to wrap them both tightly in the warm coverlet. “What are you thinking, little sparrow?” He crooned, licking a wet trail from the crook of his neck up to the point of his ear.  
  
“Whatever it was…” Link shivered again, “It’s long gone now with you behaving like that…”  
  
“Okay, okay…” Ghirahim conceded, withdrawing his tongue and drawing a line across his mouth, indicating he was ‘zipping his lips’. Link chuckled lightly.  
  
“I was just thinking…Batreaux was able to become human…would you want to become human again?” Ghirahim didn’t answer right away, suddenly lost in thought. He hadn’t considered that. In all of his visits with the ex-demon, and in spite of all of Links tales about finding Gratitude Crystals, _he hadn’t thought of that_. He must be losing his nerve; growing soft _indeed_. He had always prided himself in knowing things others didn’t…yet here he was…The little hero strikes again.  
  
“I guess I hadn’t really ever given it any thought…” Ghirahim whispered into Links hair. Link turned suddenly within the confines of the blanket and locked his eyes on the demon’s;  
  
“I don’t want you to do it just for me…” He said seriously. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me…” To his astonishment, Ghirahim only smiled.  
  
“My dear Sky-child, you may not be the main course, but appetizers always come first as they say. Mortality holds a beauty I have longed to savor for a very long time, but I can’t think of a better reason to go all in than you.” Link positively beamed, and Ghirahim smiled back.  
  
“It’s only because no one else has my stamina, potion or no…” Link said slyly, smacking the other mans rear with a self-satisfied grin. Ghirahim threw his head back and laughed. Stooping, he laced his fingers under Links seat and lifted him, turning in a circle. Link grasped the sides of his face and found his mouth promptly, the demon’s long tongue licking impatiently between his lips and deep into his mouth.  
  
“Says the man whos hard-on is stabbing me worse than his sword once did…” Ghirahim muttered thickly against his lips.  
  
Later…  
  
“Batreaux, remind me again how many gratitude crystals it took to turn you into a human?” Link asked nonchalantly, gazing over the rim of his teacup at the demon-turned-man across the table from him.  
  
“Uhm, yes, I believe eighty was the magic number…in a manner of speaking!” Chuckled Batreaux, sipping his own tea thoughtfully. “Why do you ask, Master Link?” He asked coyly, although he believed he already knew the answer, if the knot of suspicion in his chest was any indication.  
  
“Let’s just say it’s a bit awkward putting on a normal life with someone you know to be immortal.” Link took another swig of tea…  
  
“Yes,” Sniffed Batreaux a bit regretfully. “Unfortunately, being neither a demon, nor a powerful being of magic Master Link, I’m afraid I cannot help you in an errand to obtain immortality—“He began but Link cut in;  
  
“No, no, Bats you misunderstand me. Ghirahim would like to become human… _again_ …” Link added, forgetting momentarily that his demon had indeed once been a simple inhabitant of the surface world, much like himself.  
  
“Ohhh! Uhhh…” Batreaux nearly dropped his tea in his excitement. “I-I see. Well, Master Link I know it took quite a lot of gratitude crystals to turn me…” This didn’t faze Link in the slightest. He would clean Pipit’s mother’s house until the cuckoos came home to obtain however many crystals it would take. He brought his focus back to the conversation at hand as Batreaux continued. “You see, Master Link what I’m trying to say is; Master Ghirahim isn’t what the other demons would deem _pure-born_. In fact, my former kind would refer to his type colloquially as a ‘Turned One’; that is to say, a man who has been turned by a great and powerful magic force, as opposed to being simply born into being… I wonder what that makes me then…?” He trailed off thoughtfully, but Link was smiling. He leaned across the table;  
  
“Batreaux, are you saying it would be _easier_ to turn Ghirahim back then?”  
  
“Well, yes! That is, I _believe_ so Master Link…you see, there is another method…a simpler method that I myself got wind of and tried first, but I eventually discovered that the Cursed Medal simply wasn’t powerful enough for me to—“  
  
The Cursed Medal. OF COURSE.  
  
“Bats…” Link said softly, quelling him to silence, “Can you _show_ me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Living for comments in this niche fandom, so lemme know what you liked or didn't!


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